


Shame

by Cherry



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 19:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry/pseuds/Cherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tseng and Reno, and miscommunication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shame

**Author's Note:**

> In the mood for a bit of Tseng/Reno. 
> 
> In-game Wutai always seems to be a mix of Chinese and Japanese influences, so I'm sticking with that for the names and the language in this story.

“Don’t know what you’re sayin’, Boss – but it sounds _real_ dirty,” Reno chuckles. 

“And you like that?” Tseng licks his ear, making him shiver with pleasure. 

“Hell yeah! I mean – in your voice? Anything. You could be reading out the damn telephone directory and you’d make it sound hot. Specially in Wutaian. In that voice.” 

Tseng traces Reno’s lips with his fingers. “You don’t speak any Wutaian at all? Not even a few words?” 

“Nope. No second language. Don’t know nothin’ but what I grew up with, and according to Rufus, I don’t even speak that proper.” He grins, knowingly.

“Nevertheless,” Tseng says, his eyes on Reno’s mouth, “You -communicate.”

“Yeah? So – what am I thinking?” Reno asks, all smiling provocation. 

Tseng looks into his eyes, and says, “You’re thinking that you want me to do _this_ …” 

“Ah, _fuck_!” gasps Reno, sometime later. “Right again, Boss.”

~*~

“What are you saying?” Reno asks, sweaty and sated, Tseng’s immaculate sheets crumpled and stained.

“You don’t want to know,” Tseng replies.

“No – I _do_. How bad can it be? What – you into some seriously kinky shit you don’t want me to know about? Because you should tell me, yeah? I’m pretty open-minded.” 

“The things you _imagine_ I might be saying are clearly quite effective,” Tseng says. “Perhaps it is just a list of phone numbers, as you once suggested. Why does it matter, if it works?” 

“You ain’t never gonna tell me, are you?” 

“Not today,” Tseng says.

~*~

It’s been more than two years of these occasional encounters, and Reno’s still none the wiser.

“You want me to stop?” Tseng asks, when Reno almost growls with frustration.

“No! Just tell me what you’re saying!”

Tseng’s breath his hot against Reno’s ear as he whispers, “O eight seven o, four nine two…”

“Fuck off,” says Reno, but he can’t help laughing.

Afterwards though, when he thinks about it, Reno reckons that behind the teasing, there’s some anxiety there – something Tseng might actually be ashamed of. Is that possible? He’s never so much as seen his boss embarrassed. What _is_ it? 

Damn. Now he’s made it a mystery, Reno knows he’s not going to be able to rest until he’s worked out what’s going on.

Trouble is, as soon as Reno’s decided to investigate, Tseng cuts it out. Now there are only rare words – a scattered phrase or two, usually as he nears the edge, or just after, spoken softly, when they’re both still in freefall.

Reno, made shameless by desperate curiosity, bugs his own apartment and outright begs.

“C’mon, Tseng!” Reno says, wondering, in passing, why he no longer wants to say _Boss_ , like he used to. “I miss it, you know? So fucking hot. I won’t even ask what you’re saying, I swear. C’mon. Tell me what you’re gonna do to me… Tell me - whatever the fuck you tell me, yeah?”

“Make me,” Tseng says.

“Okay. You know you can’t resist me,” Reno tells him. 

Seems he’s right.

~*~

Jing-Wei smiles as Reno hands over the cash. “What can I do for you this evening?” she asks, no trace of an accent. Suddenly doubtful, Reno asks, “You speak Wutaian?”

“Yes.” She smiles, and says something. Her voice is high and ringing -nothing at all like Tseng’s. Reno shakes his head. “No – I don’t speak it. I want you to translate something.” 

“Oh. You – don’t want sex?” 

“No. Uh – thanks.” He can’t tell if she’s professionally piqued or relieved. He guesses the latter. The Honeybee is always busy – she could probably use a break. 

“Okay. What is it?”

“It’s here.” He hands her a phone with the recording loaded on to it. “Gotta warn you, though – might be a bit… strong. Dirty talk, you know?” 

She gives him a look. “What – you think there’s anything of that kind that could shock me?” 

“Guess not.” 

But when she presses play, her eyes widen. She listens to the whole recording – about a minute of the clearest phrases Reno was able to pick up over the bugs in his bedroom. He’s modified the voice, of course, and deleted names. But the words are clear.

“Pretty extreme, huh?” asks Reno, and he’s suddenly not sure that he wants to know after all. It’s a strange feeling – almost nausea. What _is_ Tseng thinking when they – when they’re together? What _does_ he want to do? Something even the leader of the Turks would be ashamed to confess?

Jing-Wei shakes her head. “It’s not what you think,” she says, and her expression is strange. “I’ll write it down for you.” 

Reno takes the piece of paper. For a moment he hesitates, but then he goes ahead and reads. He’s a Turk, after all. Jing-Wei watches his face. 

“This can’t be – Are you sure?” 

“Yes. That’s what it says.”

“No. He wouldn’t – This can’t –” Reno’s face is pale with shock.

“Hey – I’m not responsible. I only translated. But if someone said things like that to me…”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

 

Outside the Honeybee, Reno paces, utterly thrown. What the hell? What’s he supposed to do with this? Throw the paper away, delete the recording, pretend he has no idea…

The nausea sweeps over him again, but this time its quality is entirely different. It’s standing on the edge of a precipice, knowing that you could step back and stay safe – or you could jump… 

 

Reno knocks on Jing-Wei’s door. Technically, he still has ten minutes. 

“Yes?” she says, a little wary.

He holds out the paper. “This last part,” he says.

“Uh huh?” 

“How would I say that? In Wutaian?” 

Jing-Wei smiles at him. “What he says on the recording, we don’t say often. Only if it runs very deep. You say it ‘aishite imasu’.”

 

On the way home, Reno runs the unfamiliar words through in his mind over and over again, astonished, every time, to realise that they’re true.


End file.
